Hotch's Dilemma
by Sivol
Summary: Hotch really doesn't want to go undercover tonight. He would much rather stay nice and sober. WARNINGS: Fluff; Slash; Drug; A/U '100' never happened; NO LEMONS!


**Warnings: **A/U '100' never happened; Slash; OOC-Hotch; Major Fluff; Drug

**(¯`·. CM .·´¯)**

Hotch groaned in annoyance. They could not _seriously _be asking him to do this. "Isn't Reid better suited for something like this?" He asked with a near begging look. "He looks the type to fit in here."

JJ shook her head. "Sorry Hotch, but you fit the victimology. There's no way this unsub would try to take Reid, he's not a dark haired older man with a dominate personality." She tried.

"I have a son, what kind of example am I going to set for him if I go in there tonight?" Hotch demanded.

"The kind that says the FBI will do anything to bring in the bad guy, even if it's sitting back and watching while other people do illegal things." JJ told him sympathetically.

Hotch growled and rested his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. "What about the 'wardrobe', is it absolutely necessary?"

She eyed his clothing and hmm'd thoughtfully. "It looks somewhat like what you normally wear."

He glared at her. "It's a striped shirt and black slacks. The shirt is wrinkled, there is no tie, you don't want me to button the top buttons, and the pants are too tight." He complained. "This is _not _like what I normally wear. It's not even what most stoners wear, how do you expect me to play this part if I'm not even dressed like the others."

"Because this is the type of dress that the unsub looks for. It shows a bit of money, and the wrinkles show a lack of caring. The pants and unbuttoned shirt also show a sexual confidence, which he is going to be looking for tonight. And before you ask, no Rossi can't play this, he's straight. You're bi so you have some more insight into acting gay without acting flamboyant, which is what we need." She reasoned.

"Alright, fine. Let's get this over with. I want to be in and out of there as quickly as possible." Hotch said in resignation.

Reid took his cue. "Alright, remember. You are a seller, but you smoke your own product. You had some before you came, and you're here to scope out potential buyers. You are gay, but you aren't obvious about it. You are single, and you are calm."

Hotch gave another glare. "I already understood that."

Reid smiled lightly. "Be careful. You're going in without a vest, so try not to get shot."

Hotch raised an eyebrow. The other man sounded like he cared in something more than a familial way. Maybe he might have a chance with boy genius after all.

**(¯`·. CM .·´¯)**

Oh this was not good, not good at _all_. He had gotten in alright, gotten in and escorted to a table off in the back where he could keep watch over people. He had people interested in buying his 'product', and he'd already given two men a fake phone number to call to set something up later. All that was fine and dandy. The problem, no the dilemma, was that he had been sitting at this damn table in the back of this damn illegal nightclub listening to damn awful hip-hop music for the last damn two hours. What was worse, he was getting one hell of a contact buzz. Two hours, surrounded by loud and obnoxious people, smoking marijuana with smoke permeating the air so much, it was nearly hard to see the other wall. If he wasn't trying to catch a serial killer, he would laugh at the absurdity. Oh, no wait, he would laugh because he was high.

"Say uh, can I get you anything to drink?" A man asked, pulling up a chair next to Hotch.

A slow smile crept on the undercover FBI agent's mouth. Well, that wasn't put on, he was amused by the fact that this man was hitting on him. Clearly that was the pot thinking and not his logical brain, which was off somewhere in the recesses of his head screaming at him to get the hell out of there and sleep this off. "What'd ya have in mind?"

"Oh I dunno, something... fruity maybe?"

"Mmm. I like fruity." He responded easily. It was true, he did prefer drinks with flavor over drinks like... ugh _beer_.

"How about an apple martini?"

"Didn't know they served those here."

"Oh they don't, but I can put in for a special order."

Hotch leaned back lightly, letting his arm drape across the chair's back. "Tell me you aren't trying to impress me."

_Wow._ Reid thought, listening from his earpiece. _He's doing everything right._

"I'd tell you, but then I'd be lying." The other man responded.

Hotch raised an eyebrow and let his eye rake over the other man. His personality, or what Hotch's clouded mind could make of it, fit the unsub's and the man was as described, white, mid-thirties, and cocky. Hotch leaned in a bit and whispered. "Why don't we skip the meet and greet and jump straight to the sex scene."

The other man's eyes lit up and he grinned provocatively. "Alley behind the bar?"

"Sure. I can fuck you up against the wall." Hotch stated with a low growl.

The man very nearly purred at the prospect and arrogantly walked towards the back. Hotch followed a minute later and pressed his body up against the other man's. The mystery guy trailed his finger down Hotch's chest. "Mmm, what's your name?"

"Micheal." Hotch answered.

"Well Micheal, just so you know," He stated, quickly flipping Hotch around and pressing _him _against the wall instead. "I don't get fucked. I do the fucking." He stated as he pulled out a knife and held on to the agent's wrists. "Tell me Micheal, are you scared?"

"Of you? No. I'm _high_ly amused." Hotch stated, inwardly chuckling at his own pun. Oh god he was high, he might as well have been smoking the stuff himself. His eyes widened a bit as he remembered the treats on the table. Oh god. They baked the treats with weed. Dammit! He should have realized that before! He shouldn't have eaten those damn tasty looking brownies! How many did he have, four? Five? He didn't remember.

"Well you're about to be _high_ly dead." The man stated, licking his lips and pressing the knife against Hotch's throat.

"FBI PUT THE WEAPON ON THE GROUND NOW!" Morgan shouted with his gun raised as various uniforms surrounded them and aimed their guns at the ready.

"You set me up!" The unsub cried, lifting Hotch's jaw with the blade of his knife. Morgan shot him in the leg and he fell to the ground.

Hotch growled at him then smirked in a most satisfied manner. "My pun was better." He stated, as the man was put into handcuffs.

**(¯`·. CM .·´¯)**

"But sir, you need to sleep." Garcia protested as she pulled Hotch into the hotel room he, she, and Reid were sharing.

"I don't want to sleep." Hotch complained. "I want to turn on the heater, lay on the bed, and- hey who's sleeping on the couch?"

"No one." She stated, looking a bit confused.

"But there's two beds and three of us." Hotch informed her.

"Garcia and I are bunking." Reid told him, trying to hide the smile from his face. God he loved stoners, they were amusing and psychologically intriguing. They made little sense to a completely sober person, but to another stoner or a drunk, they were philosophers. The chance to study Hotch in a situation like this was unpassable.

"Oooh," Hotch said with a wiggle of his eyebrow. "Should I cover my ears when I go to bed?"

Reid made an amused face as Penelope gawked. "No Sir, I don't swing that way. Strictly queer." He clarified.

"Really now." Hotch said with a thoughtful tone. Well, at least he still retained _some _of his mind. He would plan. It probably wouldn't be a very good plan, but it would be a plan. A mischievous grin spread on his face. "What time does the pool close?"

"It closed two hours ago Sir." Garcia informed him.

"Good." Hotch said, sauntering from the room. Reid and Garcia quickly followed him out and tried to coax him back in, but to no avail. Hotch removed his shirt and shoes, then slid into the water. Mmmm heated pool.

"Hotch we need to get back. We're going to get in so much trouble!" Reid whispered frantically, trying to reach for the man to bring him back to the poolside.

"Would you stop calling me Hotch? We have first names for a reason, _Spencer_. And _Penelope_."

"Ho- Aaron, get back over here!" Reid demanded, reaching a bit more and falling in to the pool with a splash.

Hotch laughed and Garcia covered her mouth with her hands. Oh god she was going to crack up soon if this didn't stop. "Alright alright, I'll go back in." Hotch agreed, swimming to the edge of the pool. "Help me up Penelope."

She nodded quickly and went over to him, sticking her hand out. Of course, she was woefully unprepared when he yanked her in and gave a smug look to a giggling Reid. He went back to the shallow end and made his way from the pool, grabbing a towel from the rack and drying off a bit, leaving his pants soaked as a towel couldn't do a thing about it. "You know, you two should really head out of there. The pool closed two hours ago." He said as he waltzed back to their room.

"Oh my god... Hotch is so... Augh when he's like this! I wanna grab him and kiss him senseless." Garcia said trying to hold back a grin as she pulled herself from the pool.

"I would have to agree with that assessment 100%." Reid told her, grabbing two towels and tossing one to her. "We really shouldn't leave him alone, there's no telling what he could get up to."

When they returned to the room, Hotch was checking himself out in the mirror. He'd changed clothes into one of his night-shirts, but he was wearing... "Hey!" Reid called out. "Those are my pajama bottoms!"

"Pants. Pajama pants. And yes, they are. They're more comfortable than my button-up ones though, these have a stretchy waist. What are they, three sizes too big for you?"

"Yes as a matter of fact they are. I happen to enjoy wearing overly large clothes." Reid stated, snatching the second pair of pajama _bottoms _and a shirt from his go-bag and heading off to the bathroom.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Hotch asked, flopping on to the empty bed.

"What?" Reid squeaked from the bathroom.

"Do. You. Have. A. Boyfriend?"

"No." He replied, coming out drying his hair with a towel. Garcia took her turn to change.

"Do you want one?" Hotch asked bluntly. Oh yes, the plan was brilliant. Watch Reid fall into the pool, then ask if he wanted a boyfriend. Ugh he couldn't fail any harder if he'd tried. "Well, not a boyfriend, a manfriend. No wait, that doesn't make sense. Let's try this again. Do you want a relationship."

Reid looked nearly pained as he sat down on the man's bed. "Hotch, you're high. You don't know what you're saying, and you are going to freak out tomorrow morning when you remember this."

"Don't know what I'm saying my ass." Hotch said, leaning back into his pillow, which was propped against the headboard. "And stop calling me Hotch."

"Aaron then. You wouldn't have asked me that if you weren't under some sort of influence. I think it's affecting your ability to really grasp the situation."

"You're half right. I wouldn't have said anything if I weren't under some sort of influence, but my ability to grasp the situation is quite fine. Spencer, I've been watching you since the time I knew that Haley and I weren't going to last. Which, mind you, was about 6 months before we divorced. That divorce was finalized like a year and 2 months ago, so that's 20 months I've been watching you and thinking about you."

"Why didn't you say anything sooner then?" Reid asked, thinking the man was just trying to get laid. "And it was a year and 3 and a half months, so 21 ½ months total."

"Why didn't I say anything sooner? Because I didn't know if you were attracted to men, to me, if you had a significant other, or if you would even be able to be near me if I dared ask something like that." Hotch admitted. "Remember that little box that you didn't show anyone you got for Valentines day? The one with no tag and a miniature copy of 'War and Peace'?" Reid's eyes widened a bit. He hadn't even told Morgan about that. "That was from me. And the little box on your birthday with the bottle of ink labeled 'polyjuice' from that wizard book you wouldn't stop talking about. And the box at Christmas with the matching quill to that ink bottle."

"All those... those were from you?" Reid asked in slight disbelief. He hadn't told _anyone _about any of those at all!

"Yeah. And in a week when it hits Valentines day again, you'll find another little box sitting on your desk with a red ribbon around it, but I won't tell you what's in it because that'd ruin the surprise. So yeah, you're right. I wouldn't have said anything without a nudge, but I do know what I'm talking about, and I'm not going to freak out tomorrow morning, but I will probably go back to being a brooding asshole. So what about it Spencer, will you pursue a relationship with me?"

"Awwwww." Penelope coo'd from her bed, causing both men to jump. "That was so sweet!"

Reid shook his head and smiled a bit. "Ask me again in the morning, when I know you'll be sober. If you don't ask before we head out, I'll not bring it up." He said as gently as he could.

"Fair enough." Hotch agreed.

"I think my heart just broke a little." Penelope said, pulling apart the covers so she and Reid could both have one.

**(¯`·. CM .·´¯)**

The next morning was the slowest possible for all three of them. Hotch was lost in his mind, Reid was sad but un-regretful, and Garcia... Well... Garcia was giving Hotch the evil eye. That bastard of a unit chief hadn't said a thing all morning!

As they walked from the door and met with the others in the hall, Hotch stopped them. "Spencer." The rest of the team glanced back, slightly confused at his sudden calling of the young man's first name.

"Hmm?" The young man asked, looking at the man from slightly hurt eyes.

Hotch took his hand and gave a small kiss to his knuckles in front of the others, effectively surprising all of them. "We've not head out yet, we've not left the hotel. I didn't want you to think you were something I wanted to hide, so I'll ask you again. Will you pursue a relationship with me?"

Reid's face lit up and he felt like he might cry. "Of course." He said, wrapping his arms around Hotch's neck. "I'm sorry I just had to be sure you wouldn't reg-"

Hotch shushed him by bringing his face up as an arm snaked around the younger man's waist. He pressed a light kiss to the agent's lips and pulled him closer.

"Oh my god I'm gonna cry." Penelope said, waving a hand at her eyes trying to keep her mascara from running.

**(¯`·. CM .·´¯)**

_**A/N: **_Rated M for talking about marijuana so much, plus the exchange between Hotch and the unsub, and because I'm paranoid.


End file.
